Sage
by Involuntary Twitch
Summary: Red almost never leaves Mt. Silver. He doesn't need to. The world comes to him.
1. Gold

Red almost never left Mt. Silver. This was something that those who knew him personally, such as Green, had come to accept. But Red was hardly lonely, because besides having his Pokémon for company he had a near-constant stream of visitors: impossibly strong trainers who came to try and see if Red really was as strong as everyone said he was. Occasionally those challengers would win, but mostly they would lose, and Red considered those that lost to have gained the most. Win or lose, they would talk. Red would hear stories from places close as Blackthorn and Viridian to as far-flung as Hoenn and Orre and, in one particularly strange case, Unova. And whenever they asked for advice, Red provided it to the best of his ability.

One of Red's first visitors other than Green was the current Johto champion: a kid of about fourteen with a hat colored like an Ultra ball and with enough youthful enthusiasm to make Red feel old. Red won, but only after losing four of his team and resorting to Lapras to whittle away at Gold's Quagsire's health until it went down. Gold recalled his last Pokémon and then shamelessly asked if he could spend the night at Red's cave while his Pokémon recovered, and Red consented.

"...So anyway, he's kind of an asshole," Gold muttered through a mouthful of fire-roasted ramen. "I mean, I think he's got a reason for it, but anyway, he's really unfriendly and introverted and I just want to… get a bit closer to him, y'know? We both started training at the same time, but I don't think I've ever seen him for more than the duration of a battle."

Red allowed Pikachu to climb onto his lap and eat his noodles while he gazed blankly at the ceiling. A long silence followed, something that Gold was used to, before the Kanto champion spoke.

"Sometimes we can't change who we are," he said. "But I think even introverts could use someone to talk to, sometimes. Does he have a Pokegear?"

Gold shrugged. "Dunno. I never asked. I think it'd be tough, though, being a trainer without one. So, yeah, probably."

"You should challenge him to a battle," Red said. "If you win, take his number as payment. If you lose, take his number for a rematch."

"Now _there's_ an idea! And if he doesn't have a Pokégear, I'll _buy_ him one and _make_ him take it when he loses!" Gold was grinning practically ear-to-ear, now. He then went on to talk about everything else that was on his mind, from tournaments to working on his Pokédex to how he really should call his mom more often, until Red excused himself and traveled deeper into the cave to sleep.

When he awoke the next morning and went to check on Gold, the boy's stuff was gone; he had left early in order to beat the upcoming blizzard.

A/N: Whoo, first submission. Here we go. The first chapter is so short because it is. If you look reeeeally close, you can see my preference for pairings, but that's neither here nor there. Reviews are much appreciated, especially suggestions for other characters to be featured.


	2. Lance

Red's next visitor was a familiar face: a red-haired, caped man who arrived on the back of his Dragonite. Lance and Red had sort of a tentative relationship; Lance was eight to ten years Red's senior but had never once won a battle against him and was determined to change that. He showed a fierce devotion to his cause, too, pulling out exotic Pokémon from faraway regions with the sole intent of countering Red's strategy. Garchomp felled Pikachu and Gyarados easily took care of Charizard, but in the end it was the icy environment that got to Lance's cold-blooded Pokémon, making them too sluggish to dodge even the most direct attacks. Red didn't even have to pull out Lapras's type advantage in order to win.

"Bullshit," Lance declared as soon as his Altaria fell. Red recalled Blastoise and simply shook his head. The redhead cursed, then turned on his heel and stormed back inside the cave, his cape rippling behind him in a sufficiently dramatic fashion. Red stood in the snow for another minute, letting the ex-Champion vent his anger in silence, before following.

Lance had his own Charizard light the fire as he pulled out salted jerky and a cooking stove. The pot simmered and they stared at it in silence, until Red asked the first question. "Why do gym leaders use only one type of Pokémon?"

"Because nothing can surpass the majesty of dragons," Lance snapped almost immediately. "They are the most graceful and powerful of Pokémon."

"That wasn't my question."

Lance sniffed in indignation. "Are you _trying_ to piss me off? What the hell is your problem?" Red looked back without saying anything, waiting patiently as Lance's balled-up fists stopped shaking and relaxed. "You wanted to know why gym leaders use only one type. Is me saying ''cause they like it' really that hard to understand?"

"No, I understand. But having an easily-exploited weakness doesn't win many battles."

"That's why you cover for it! You carry Pokémon who can overcome… that…" Lance's voice petered off.

"Would you carry a Pokémon with you that covered for your weaknesses, even if it wasn't a dragon?"

Lance didn't reply; he kept his gaze fixed on the fire. When he did speak, it was nearly a whisper. "Why don't you evolve your Pikachu? You know how much more powerful Raichu are. And Thunderstones aren't exactly rare." Pikachu, hearing its name and knowing it was being talked about, nuzzled Red's hand affectionately.

Another minute of silence passed before Lance stood up, rather suddenly, and turned his back to the fire and Red, fixing his gaze on the dark slit of the cave opening. "I think I know. Why we only use one type of Pokémon, I mean."

Red looked on with interest. "Why?"

"It's to give the other trainers a chance. Because we know that, someday, there'll be someone younger and stronger than us, and when the time comes, we'll have to lose so that they can go on." He glanced over his shoulder, back at Red. "Pokémon isn't something for older generations, really. Inevitably, we overcome our restless teenage years and lose our mobility and settle down, and the next generation replaces us. And then it's our job to make sure that they are challenged just enough, but not too much. Because if we're so strong that no trainer can beat us, then, well… that'll be it. The end of Pokémon training."

Lance pitched a tent as near to the mouth of the cave as he could, and Red was woken up early that morning by the loud wing-beats of Dragonite taking off.


End file.
